


Can I Keep You?

by sidewalksofny



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Fluff, Ghosts, Halloween, M/M, casper au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 22:31:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2405279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidewalksofny/pseuds/sidewalksofny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short Casper AU focusing solely on the last scene of the movie (with some extra added on). Implied character death in that one is a ghost (nothing explicitly referenced). Lots of gratuitous shmoop and emotions with teensy hints of smut thrown in. Happy Halloween!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can I Keep You?

This was stupid. The whole thing was stupid. Everything was stupid. This was _his house_ , for fuck’s sake. (Well, technically ownership could probably be contested, given the ghosts that had been haunting it for nearly a century now, but _he lived here_ , dammit.) And it hadn’t exactly been the easiest day, either, seeing his newly-dead baby sister flying around the laboratory as a ghost, singing at the top of her lungs while he didn’t even try to hold the tears back. And then _what Harry had done_ —how could Louis ever begin to even fathom that sacrifice, how much it meant, to him, to Harry—he’d still been reeling when Harry’s three godfathers/guardians/what-have-yous that were Liam, Zayn, and Niall had whisked the girls off and Louis’d gone to pull open the door with the best grin he could manage and—everyone had rushed right by him. Set up their music and finger foods and decorations with barely a word to him.

He supposed maybe he deserved it a bit. He hadn’t exactly made much of an effort at making friends at his new school, rushing to go pick the twins up from their school as soon as the bell rang each day, helping them with their homework before working on his own in the afternoons, spending too many nights laughing in the kitchen as Harry made them all dinner and inevitably later insisted on baking some sort of dessert. Fuck, he probably couldn’t even name half the kids there. But that still didn’t mean it was fair for him to be sitting, arms crossed, in this chair against the wall like every horrible film cliché Hollywood ever had the nerve to produce. It wasn’t as if—

Louis’ thoughts cut off as a movement caught his eye. Someone was at the top of the stairs. Someone hypnotically beautiful, tall and broad with a mess of dark curls and a dangerously sharp jaw. He seemed to be dressed as a pirate—not in one of the kitschy, hyper-manufactured costumes in the storefront windows downtown, but in a white, billowy shirt unfairly open to nearly halfway down his lean chest. Fitted dark pants tucked into tall, leather sailor boots, buckles gleaming in the light. Long fingers traced the railing as he descended slowly, scanning the room hungrily. Who was this boy? And what had he been doing upstairs? Had he been in Louis’ room? Would he like to see Louis’ room? Even from the distance, Louis could feel the boy’s tense eagerness, pleased to be in the moment as he took in the sights and sounds of the party, but clearly excited for something to come as well.

His eyes fell on Louis and he immediately relaxed, smiling at Louis with a gentle warmth as he started to make his way across the room, easily shouldering past the dancers and ignoring the several faces turning to watch him pass. No—ignoring would imply a willful act; the way the boy was watching Louis, so intently but somehow so carefully as well, as if Louis might disappear at any moment, Louis felt certain the boy wasn’t even properly aware that anyone else was in the room. He felt his brow furrow in confusion as he tried to place the boy. He looked familiar, for sure, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Had to be in one of his classes… maybe history? He sat near the back and dozed off quite a bit, so it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch, though Louis couldn’t believe he would’ve ever forgotten seeing the incredible feat of genetics now approaching him, even if only in passing. Still, there was something about him…

Louis unfolded his arms and unslouched himself as the boy drew closer, suddenly fidgety and nervous. He looked up to see the boy now standing over him, one hand extended, steady gaze effortlessly clearing away Louis’ uneasiness.Louis slipped his hand into the one offered to him, and the boy pulled him up, his hand immediately tightening around Louis’ in a firm, confident grip, thumb running over the back of Louis’ hand. The boy stared at their hands in awe for a moment, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes, and Louis was biting his tongue on at least twelve different snarky comments about whether or not they were still in grade school—he didn’t want to be rude to this gift from the heavens, but they were only holding hands, for fuck’s sake—when the boy tore his eyes away and beamed at Louis before tugging him onto the dance floor.

An upbeat pop tune had just given way to a slow ballad, so the boy brought Louis’ arms up around his neck before settling his hands on the small of Louis’ back, pulling him close. “Hiiiii,” he said slowly, biting his lip as they swayed in place.

It was embarrassing, really—they were barely even moving—but Louis was still so dazed by the appearance of the boy, still trying to figure out what was going on, completely unprepared for the deep rumble of his voice, that he somehow managed to trip over his own feet. Without missing a beat, the boy caught him in a dip, even earning a few impressed murmurs from the crowd around them.

Louis blinked up at the boy stupidly. “Oops.” His eyes roved over the boy’s face now bending over him, searching for any hint, anything that might trigger his memory. Where had he seen him? Up close, he could see the light green of the boy’s eyes beneath soft eyelashes, the dimple that kept appearing in his left cheek, the unimaginable pink of his lips. Who was he? How could Louis have forgotten?

Still holding Louis in his arms, easy as anything, the boy’s face split into a smug grin, eyes flicking over Louis’ face. “Told you I was a good dancer,” he murmured, clearly pleased with himself. That set off a light bulb for sure, but before Louis could process it, the boy hauled him upright, holding Louis tight against his body and letting his lips graze over the shell of Louis’ ear as he whispered, “ _Can I keep you?_ ”

Louis gasped and staggered back, only just keeping his balance this time. “ _Harry_?”

The boy in front of him smiled shyly, suddenly less confident now that he’d revealed himself. Louis took a cautious step forward, tentatively reaching out to trace Harry’s cheekbone, and Harry leaned into the touch with a sharp inhale, green eyes peering furtively at Louis. “Babe, it’s me. Swear.”

And of _course_. Harry’s features in ghost-form had been decidedly muted and less distinct (admittedly an effect of being translucent) but Louis saw it now. How had he not realized? Louis let out a burst of joyous laughter and wrapped Harry in a tight hug before pulling away almost just as quickly. “Wait. Does this mean…?” he spluttered, his thoughts unable to catch up to his words. “I mean, are you…?”

Harry cut him off with a shake of his head, curls falling in front of his face. “Just for tonight,” he answered with a small grimace, running his fingers through his hair.

“Midnight tonight, or ’til-tomorrow-morning tonight?” Louis prompted, glancing up at the clock. It was barely even ten…

Harry shrugged and Louis marveled at the motion, the _realness_ of it. “Dunno. ’S some sort of half-assed karmic thank you, apparently. It wasn’t exactly what I’d—”

Now it was Louis’ turn to cut him off; he didn’t give a fuck about the details of how or why—all he cared about was Harry, fully alive and corporal before him. He smashed his mouth against Harry’s so hard he would’ve seen stars if not for the adrenaline coursing through every inch of his veins, heart pumping fit to burst. He kept his lips firmly closed, though; some tiny sliver of his consciousness was aware that he was still in the middle of a school dance, and he knew he couldn’t possibly be held responsible for anything that might happen should he let his tongue loose. 

He held the kiss as long as he dared, fingers pressing into Harry’s back, before shifting to whisper low in Harry’s ear. “Harry, please, I—I want to touch you.”

Harry’s response was immediate, a hot breath on his cheek: “ _Yes_.”

Which was all it took for Louis to grab Harry’s hand (which was a thing he could do now, Louis realized, his head still spinning) and pull him towards the stairs. It was impossible to be subtle as they wound through the crowd; even with his head down, Louis knew countless eyes were on them as they started the climb up to his room, but he also knew that he couldn’t care less.

As soon as Louis’ door was shut, Harry had him crowded up against it, tongue licking hot and wet and insatiable into his mouth. Louis moaned loudly, first trying to push his hands into the open top of Harry’s shirt to get at his collarbones, then opting to ruck up his shirt instead and work his way up. Harry’s hands restlessly roved from Louis’ hair to his jaw, his arms, the small of his back, and Louis suddenly realized that as much as he hadn’t been able to touch Harry, Harry hadn’t been able to touch him, either. And clearly he was just as eager.

Harry had moved on to Louis’ neck now, mouthing at it with wet, open-mouthed kisses, still unable to keep to one spot and leaving Louis hot and cold all over. His brain was screaming for _contact, contact, contact_ and this shirt wasn’t letting him have enough. “Haz,” he groaned, tugging at it until Harry took the hint and backed away enough to pull it off.

Louis’ face dropped when he saw Harry’s torso in full, lightly defined with just enough softness to sink his teeth into. Four nipples to torture with his tongue. Countless tattoos to shoot his come onto.

Harry saw the change in Louis’ face and froze, halfway through shaking the his arm out of the last sleeve. “Lou? What is it?”

Louis took a shaky breath, steeling himself. “It’s gonna be a long night.”

*

Hours later, they lay in Harry’s bed, sheets tangled around their legs, clothes thrown in every corner of the room. There were come stains in unimaginable places, a definite dent in the drywall near the closet, and shoes kicked where they wouldn’t be found for months, but that would all wait for the morning. None of it really mattered, anyway. Louis reached out a hand to tug gently at one of Harry’s curls while Harry gazed at him, green eyes boring into Louis as if permanently committing the image to memory as he slowly breathed in and out. As many times as he’d thought it over and over that night, Louis still couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that Harry was really lying next to him, shifting subtly under his fingertips, hooking an ankle around one of Louis’, shivering at even the slightest touch. The same Harry who Louis would walk in on singing softly to himself in the kitchen while making breakfast, who had sat and let Louis cry and cry and cry when the stress of raising his sisters sent waves of gasping panic through him, who made stupid jokes about fruit and giggled when Louis teased him about them.

“Please don’t leave me.”

The words spilled over Louis’ lips before he even realized he was thinking them, a desperate plea from a needy child, and suddenly he felt impossibly small and vulnerable. He knew how stupid and immature he sounded, but he was desperate to keep Harry next to him like this always, radiating warmth and smelling like sweat and sex and musk. He curled his body closer to Harry and, not trusting himself to look up, kept his eyes firmly trained on his hand gripping Harry’s hip as if holding on for dear life. _Dear life_ , Louis thought to himself bitterly. What a fucking joke.

Harry reached over and wiped away a tear Louis hadn’t even noticed. “Don’t want to leave you. Would never.” Louis could hear the frown in Harry’s voice, apparently trying to work something out in his head. “Thing is, Lou, I— I thought my dad was my unfinished business, but after he died and crossed over… I dunno, I still felt like there was something else that I had to wait for. Something coming. I never really knew what, though; it was just a feeling I never knew how to explain. And now, I— I think it was you, Louis. Because that feeling’s gone. And you’re here. You’re my unfinished business.”

Louis looked up at him now, eyes wide.

Harry took a deep breath and continued, “And I know—I know that’s not really fair to you, to have you make a—a commitment or anything. Because you’re young and alive and have so much ahead of you, you don’t need to be saddled down by a fucking ghost. And I know it’s a lot to hear, and I know I said I’d never leave, but if you want me to, I’ll cross over and leave you alone, because I want you to be happy, Louis. But… I think we could be happy? And I think… I think maybe I love you.”

Louis didn’t say anything in response, just stared before pulling Harry in by the back of the neck for a long, slow kiss **.** He tried to take all the words that would never make it around the lump in his throat and press them onto Harry’s lips for him to swallow down and understand. It must have worked, because Harry soon broke the kiss to tuck his head under Louis’ chin and snuggle against his chest, sighing and tracing light circles on Louis’ hip.

Louis played with the curls at the back of Harry’s neck, still thoughtful. “But what about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow will be tomorrow,” Harry answered, simple as ever. “I’ll still be here. You just won’t be able to fuck my arse anymore.”

Louis laughed at that, feeling Harry’s smirk against his skin as he turned his face into Louis’ chest, cheeks hot. He wove his fingers through Harry’s hair to massage at his scalp and smiled as Harry hummed contentedly, shifting closer, breathing starting to even out. Tomorrow would be tomorrow. They’d be alright.

“Good night, Haz,” Louis murmured as his eyes began to close. “I love you, too.”


End file.
